


Clarke & Aden Watch Lexa On TV

by HurricaneJane



Series: Quality Ingredients One Shots [18]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HurricaneJane/pseuds/HurricaneJane
Summary: Tumblr Ask:Hi. I absolutely love the fact that you are getting back into the QI universe! Welcome back!! I really can’t wait to see Lexa in full Commander mode in the kitchen and how Clarke reacts to it, since she’s always so calm, patient, and sweet with Clarke. Maybe it’s Clarke and Aden watching the Netflix special or maybe it happens at one of the restaurants??
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Quality Ingredients One Shots [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589668
Comments: 3
Kudos: 111





	Clarke & Aden Watch Lexa On TV

“Favorite power ballad?” Clarke asked. She and Aden sat on the couch at her apartment eating snacks from the bar downstairs and talking music. It was Aden’s school break. Most of his friends were on ski vacations with their families. He wanted to give his mother and Roan space for a sleepover date on Roan’s day off, and Clarke and Lexa had become his first choice. Lexa was working dinner service. It was Clarke’s weekend, so she brought him to her place to play records, eat greasy food and break out her art supplies while they waited for Lexa.

“Oh, damn,” Aden’s eyes widened. He had a nacho in one hand and was drawing with a green sharpie with the other. REO Speedwagon’s ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ played in the background and spurred the question. “That is so hard.”

“You gotta pick one,” Clarke tsked and sipped from her bottle of beer.

“Gun to my head, I’m gonna say Sister Christian,” Aden replied firmly.

“Yes!” Clarke cried as she reached for a pink marker. “That’s such a classic. Since you took the best one, I need to come up with another.”

“There are so many!” Aden set his marker down to get more snacks.

“Lex and I were driving this morning and ‘Feel Like Makin Love’ came on. She was trying to make it sexy, but I was making it all about karaoke,” Clarke laughed.

“How can you not when that absolute powerhouse is playing?” Aden laughed with her.

“I’m pretty sure I have that record somewhere,” Clarke nodded towards her room. “It might be at Lexa’s. I brought a bunch of them over last week. She was in such a grouchy mood that I tried to lighten things up with a little classic rock.”

“She’s a grouch when you guys don’t see each other enough,” Aden pushed an ambitious bite of nachos into his mouth. 

“She is not,” Clarke blushed.

“Clarke,” he got out through his full mouth and accompanied with a look of disdain that was a spitting image of Anya’s. “Come on.”

“I don’t believe that. She’s just exhausted and she’s super busy lately,” Clarke waved a hand and busied herself with assembling a nacho bite.

“She’s been exhausted and super busy since she was my age,” Aden rolled his eyes. “It’s you, Clarke. She misses you. She’s been extra Commandery at work lately.”

“While I think that’s very sweet of you to say,” Clarke paused to take a sip of her drink. “I’m choosing not to believe that she turns into the commander just because I’m picking up overtime.”

“I think the back of house staff at Houm would love it if you had a few more days off,” Aden chuckled.

“Has she been that bad lately?” Clarke winced.

“Nah,” Aden shrugged. “Not like she used to be, but she let Emori absolutely have it the other day over something small.”

“I don’t believe any of you. She can’t be that bad,” Clarke looked down at her drawings to keep her pink cheeks to herself.

“Did you ever check out that Netflix special I told you about?” Aden asked. 

“I don’t have a ton of TV time where she isn’t present, so not yet,” Clarke replied.

“She’s not present right now?” Aden grinned and looked at the TV deliberately after a beat of silence.

“She’s picking us up in half an hour,” Clarke glanced skeptically at her phone. 

“Her segment’s only like fifteen minutes. It’s a show about Vegas restaurants, so it’s when she was killing it at Nightblood and super driven and extra fierce,” Aden raised a devious brow.

“Alright, set it up,” Clarke handed him the remote after a few more moments of deliberation. “I’ve gotta see what you’re all so twisted up about.”

“oh my god, YES!” He cheered and clicked through the menus. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know,” Clarke whined. It was all perfectly public information, but she always felt a strange sense of guilt when she went snooping for anything recorded of Lexa, especially if it was older. “Am I going to look at her the same afterwards?”

“Probably not,” Aden shrugged. “But not necessarily in a bad way.”

“Oh boy,” Clarke sighed. 

Lexa popped up on the screen after Aden fast forwarded through the beginning. Clarke was still getting used to seeing Lexa’s face on magazines, TV screens and the internet. It was slightly less jarring than it was at first. Now that she was part of Lexa’s daily life she understood it more, but it still amazed and surprised her at least a little every time.

“When is this from?” Clarke asked. Lexa’s hair was different. She had more make up on than she wore now. 

“I think it’s five years old maybe?” Aden shrugged.

“They say you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, but I’m not trying to catch flies. I already caught them. I’m trying to make sure they don’t fuck up my restaurant,” TV Lexa smirked at the camera.

“Stop it,” Clarke sat upright. She couldn’t look away.

“She’s just getting warmed up,” Aden grinned. After a montage of shots of the dining room, the camera zoomed in on Lexa working expo. Every stabbed ticket was lined up precisely. The kitchen was bright white and stainless steel like the operating rooms Clarke spent her days in. Every cook in the place was in perfect formation in crisp uniforms and the plates looked beautiful.

“What the fuck is this? Are you fucking kidding me? Which one of you shitsluggers tried to sell this plate?” Lexa barked at the line. No one spoke. “They’re literally fucking filming!” TV Lexa cast a hand at the camera and the shot backed away from her. “If you assholes make me go back through these tapes, I’ll not only fire whoever did this, I’ll make sure you never work in this city again!”

“Shitsluggers?” Clarke held a hand over her mouth. “A vocabulary like hers and she calls people shitsluggers?!”

“Oh, she gets a lot more creative than that,” Aden laughed.

“We’ve fucking talked about this more times than I can count! Own your mistakes! Have some honor and decency! You! Your station looks like a fucking tornado with two left feet blew through and took a wet dump! Clean it up!” TV Lexa barked in a new segment.

“She’s so much,” Clarke gasped. She hadn’t moved since the kitchen clips began.

“If I wanted guests to taste charred garbage, I’d take you out front, press your bare ass on the asphalt and let them kiss it goodbye! You cook this steak on Satan’s molten hot taint? Who the fuck did this? Speak up!” TV Lexa ranted on.

There was another five minutes of clever and creative insults and shouting laced with profanity and carefully chosen euphemisms.

“I do not know what this emotion is that I’m feeling,” Clarke spoke evenly. She took a huge swig from her beer. “I’m excited but I’m a little scared, but I’m also turned on. I’m some kind of horrified, but I also like it somehow.”

“Sounds about right,” Aden chuckled.

“I don’t yell all the time,” TV Lexa said in another interview portion. She had her TV smile on and looked stunning as ever. “But I do find it to be effective.”

The show cut to a montage of prep. Lexa showing someone proper butchering technique and grinning at them and clapping them on the back when they got it right. A pack of attentive cooks hanging on her every word as she rolled out pasta. A crew of servers intently jotting notes while Lexa explained the specials in her calm, confident, normally eloquent speaking voice that Clarke was used to.

“I’m in the business of being the best,” TV Lexa said over a montage of shots from the dining room followed by close ups of prep and cooking. “You don’t become the best with thin skin and participation trophies. If you work for me, you earn your spot every day,” they rounded out her segment with shots of her and Indra laughing. A crew of chefs enthusiastically calling back commands in unison. Hundreds of plates of beautifully executed food. “There are thousands of hungry, talented cooks that want these spots. I pay well above average, and I expect well above average. Respect is earned in my kitchen, never assumed, and it’s earned every damn day. I expect the same level of excellence and effort from my head chefs and sous chefs as I do from the line cooks. Sometimes I wash the dishes. We’re a team. When one falls behind, we all do. When one succeeds, we all do.”

A sweeping overhead shot of the entire front and back of house staffs toasting something together and cheering faded to Lexa in her interview again.

“And if you want to succeed, you figure out how to get on my team,” TV Lexa looked right into the camera with the cockiest smirk. “Because I do not fail.”

The screen faded to black.

“Hey, you two,” Lexa came up the back stairs. Clarke jumped and almost knocked over her beer.

“We weren’t watching anything!” Clarke yelped. 

“What?” Lexa laughed before leaning down to give Clarke a kiss and mess up Aden’s hair.

“Hi,” Clarke tried to catch her breath.

“What’s up with you?” Lexa eyed her. Clarke bit her lip. 

“Nothing,” Clarke waved a hand and composed herself. “Let me just clean up a little here and we’ll be ready to go in a sec.” Clarke busied herself with the snack plates and tidied up the markers.

“Hey, this is pretty good!” Lexa grinned at Clarke’s drawing of Aden drawing. 

“Thank you,” Clarke dumped the dishes in the sink and grabbed her bag from her room. “Aden, do you have everything you brought with you?”

“Yup,” he flicked the TV off. His devious grin was back. Lexa could feel something was up, but couldn’t put her finger on it.

“How was work tonight?” Clarke asked innocently. 

“Long,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “Lots of time off requests this week, so I’m working with the B Team. It requires a certain brand of patience I wasn’t born with.”

“Well, I’m sure you whipped those shitsluggers right into shape,” Clarke barely got the sentence out without laughing.

“You showed her that?!” Lexa whirled on Aden. He was giggling too hard. 

“Come on!” Aden laughed. “It’s one of my favorites! They bleep out all your best lines on network TV!”

“Get over here, you little shitslugger,” Lexa playfully pulled him into a headlock.


End file.
